Bound
by MissPessimist
Summary: They were tied to each other, by a meeting in the snow a long time ago, by power, by fear, and by something much deeper entirely. RussLiet.
1. Frozen

MP: This creep ought to be working on "Flesh Failures" right now, but I have no motivation tonight. But never fear, there's Hetalia to make everything better.

Cee: Hetalia is the property of Hidekaz Himaruya, and MissPessimist doesn't own an iota of the city, county, and state of Hetalia.

MP: Yeah, cool. I'll attempt to keep this updated as regularly as possible, but knowing me that's going out the window.

XXX

_Oh…_

_It's so warm…he couldn't remember it being so warm before. It's too warm…breathing is too difficult when it's this warm…_

_He tried moving, but it felt heavy. All his limbs were made of concrete, and he felt as though he was buried beneath miles and miles of burning sands._

_Oh, he was trapped. Trapped and he was going to suffocate in this terrible, terrible heat._

_A sound in his throat emerged, what could be a whimper escaping, but his stuffed ears could barely make it out._

_Now there was a feeling spreading across what could be his forehead. It was cool, no, it was cold, and it felt so good…He pushed up against it, fighting against the immense weight of the heat settled over him. He needed to get closer to the cold…_

"_Try to lie still."_

_That voice, so hazed and vague in his ears. Did he know that voice? It sounded so far away._

"_Too…hot…" that was his voice; he felt it leave his throat._

_Two hands; one cooling his forehead, the other pressed against his cheek. So smooth and cold, he pressed closer to them._

"_I know, but you need to lay still, Lietuva" the voice spoke again. God, he couldn't place it…was it Feliks? He hoped against hope it was Feliks. "You've been nearly dead for days. You have a fever." _

_Fever. The heat suffocating him…_

"_F-Feliks?" he said, his throat raw, scratched. "Polska?"_

_A small sound of air being exhaled. "No. I am Estonia, Eduard."_

_No…he…where was Feliks?_

"_Polska…I want Polska…"_

_He needed Feliks, where was he? Was he alright? It's so hot here…_

"_Feliks?" he felt his voice getting louder, the hoarseness creating a block in his throat. "Feliks?"_

"_Lietuva, please!" the voice said urgently, the hands leaving his face and going to press his shoulders down as they began to rise up. "You need to stay quiet!"_

_No, no, no, no, no he needed Feliks, he needed to make sure he was alright, he needed to get rid of this damn heat pressing down on him…_

"_NO! I want Feliks! Polska!" he yelled, his voice raw and painful, but loud now. "Polska!"_

_A hand was placed over his mouth. But it was covered; it wasn't skin touching his lips, but a thick cloth that smelled of ice and wind. He tried to yell against it, but the hand only pressed down harder, painfully._

"_No more screaming, Litva. You need to rest your throat and get well again."_

_That voice. He knew that voice._

_His eyelids were made of lead, and lifting them was taxing on his dulled senses. Barely managing to crack them open, his vision was blurry, but he could make out a large white blob in front of him, with two lilac smears where eyes are meant to be._

_Russia._

_The hand covering his mouth faded away, and he blinked rapidly, trying to gain more focus. Slowly, he could define small details in the man before him; the familiar white scarf, pale hair hanging slightly into his face, two large purple eyes glinting in the light of what could be a fire._

"_Russia…" he croaked out softly._

"_Da, Litva" the other man said cheerfully. "Are you happy to see me?"_

"_Russia" he rasped again, quickly feeling his voice losing momentum. "Where's Polska?"_

_The tall Russian smiled down at him. "Now he is probably at his home, well taken care of, probably in the same state you're in."_

"_But…" he whispered, unable to get any louder. "But I'm…"_

_Russia seemed to chuckle lightly, resting his large hand across the sweltering forehead below him. "Litva is going to stay with me now, isn't that nice?"_

"_No, I…I can't…" he started, feeling his words slipping away from him as the weight and the confusion of the other man's words settled over him like the weight of a deep sea. _

"_You're going to stay here, and we're all going to be a family" Russia was explaining, oblivious to the fact that the one he was speaking to was slowly…slipping…_

_Yes…slipping was the word for it…_

"_And you won't have to be lonely because I've got you a brother; and sisters too!"_

_It was like he'd been teetering on the edge of a deep precipice and he had just suddenly slipped sideways…_

"_So you need to get better again so you can start being happy in your new home."_

_Home…Lithuania…the forest and the Baltic Sea and the river and running barefoot through tall grass as a child…that home…or was home this black pit he was falling into?_

"_Litva?"_

_This searing black pit that scorched every inch of his skin, that only sucked him in deeper and filled his lungs and ohdievashecouldn'tbreathecan'tbreathnonononononono..._

"_Lietuva!"_

_He was slipping, being swallowed, crushed, burned…_

"_He's losing consciousness again."_

_Praryti grūsti slydimo degimo pagalba pagalba pagalba!_

_This black pit…_

"_Good Litva, get some rest now."_

_This black pit was home now._

XXX

He walked.

A while back he could no longer hear the soft crunch his boots made in the snow, as his ears filled with wind. As this sense disappeared, as did the focus he had on the sound of the soft trudging his silent companion made through the snow.

Around the same time he stopped hearing himself walk, the brunette he dragged along had stopped his screaming. When it had begun it was shrill, panicked, leading down to desperate, spiraling to pathetic cracked pleas, down to silence.

The hand he had grasped tightly in his own gloved one had ceased resisting and now hung still in the cold, ungloved.

It was very dark now; and getting still colder. They were very close to Russia's border now, it wouldn't be long.

Russia turned his head slightly to glance at the silent nation behind him. So unchanged from the many years he had not seen this boy, though they had both been children then. Litva seemed to have only grown more beautiful since then; tall, slender, with finely crafted features, like porcelain…and of course, his eyes, the very ones that first caught his attention. So deep and green, like sea water, full and dark…

And they had looked so beautiful the day they met. It had been snowing then too, just as it was now, but his Litva had not been turning blue then.

That day. That day that had been so clearly carved into his memory had stood against time and many other, far superior, events that had tried to replace it. Since that one day in the snow, with that boy, there had been one objective for him to reach.

He had to become stronger, more powerful. Because if he could do that, then he would have the power to find that boy again, and to claim him, protect him, and keep him.

Russia smiled as he walked. And here they were; Russia victorious once again, strong enough now to bring home the prize that had been denied him for so long.

"We are not far now, Litva. Just a little ways longer and then-"

The sound of weight hitting the snow, and a harsh tug at the grip Russia had on the other man's arm.

Frowning, Russia turned to face his companion. Lithuania had collapsed face-first into the snow, legs crumpled behind him, covered up to the knees in snow, and lightly dusting the shabby coat the other wore that probably made pathetic protection from the harsh wind. And in the hand that Russia held, the fingers were tinted blue.

Russia yanked the other up by the freezing hand he held, wrapping one arm around the brunettes waist and using the other to sweep him up and out of the snow. Lithuania's face was partly stinging red, and the other part turning a gray that would no doubt soon be blue.

He pulled up one end of his long white scarf, and wrapped it around the lower half of the Lithuanians face. Pressing the brown head to his chest with one hand, Russia began to walk again.

His Litva was still so beautiful, even on the brink of frostbite. This thought sent a smile to Russia's face as he trudged and charged through the steadily falling snow. Yes, he would get Litva home, and then they would be happy together…

In his arms, Lithuania moaned and tried to burrow deeper into the folds of the Russians coat.

And he walked faster, hoping that Eduard had the good sense to keep the fire going until he returned.

XXX

Well then, fun times. That was the first chapter, and I hope to have the second finished very soon.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chained

The air in this place was thick and deep, like mossy water, but smelled dank and sharp. The smell of stale sweat, the same that he could feel on his skin and matting his hair, hung around him. There was no light behind his closed eyelids, the fire was gone and the room was dark.

Lithuania deeply inhaled, filling his lungs with oxygen and slowly exhaling it out in an attempt to calm the small thumping in his head. His body still felt heavy, tired, dirty, but he was no longer burning. The fire was gone from his skin, and the only thing that signaled it had ever been there was the dried sweat covering him and the '_buh bump' _pounding in his head.

Lifting his eyelids was no longer a strenuous task, and slowly the room came into view. There was no window in this room, so it was fairly dark, the only light coming from the cracks that made up the door frame that was slightly larger than the door itself.

In the mediocre light, Lithuania could make out that the room was very sparsely decorated. A dresser was pushed against the wall to his left, a small mirror with a crack in the corner hanging above it, reflecting darkness and the small sliver of light coming from the crack in the doorframe. Besides the mirror, the walls were empty of any pictures or devices to make the room even slightly welcoming.

The bed he rested in was large, larger than one person could possible require. The sheets covering him were graying and obviously old, a heavier comforter resting near the foot of the bed.

This wasn't home. This was not Poland, and this most _certainly _was not Lithuania.

Russia, then.

Yes, he remembered something about Russia now…

"_Litva is going to stay with me now, isn't that nice?"_

Dievas, that man was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Now was the time to think rationally and try to be calm, because he was going to need his wits about him if and when someone came to see him. Deep breaths, deep breaths were good.

Why would he have been brought here? Why him and not Feliks? Lithuania couldn't fathom a reason he would have been brought to Russia's household, besides the fact that his land was no longer his own, that much he could guess. But…with Russia? He could not stay in a house with Russia, he would go crazy!

Could it be possible to escape? No, most likely not since not only was this Russia where it was always snowy and desolate, but it was also winter, so it would be one hundred times worse. But what if he could get someone to…

Scratch that one off already, Poland was the only friend he had right now and Feliks was probably doing worse than him right now, because the blond didn't do well in this season normally, never mind the fact that they had been bleeding out in the snow for a few hours days before.

What if he just asked to be freed?

…that's funny. Asking Russia to just let him go on his way, put up no fight, and cause no more bodily injury to him, that was a joke if ever Lithuania heard one. Just the man's response to such a request would surely mean pain in some areas he found vital for survival…

The best solution would be to wait out the winter here, build himself back up to his full health, then make a quick bid for freedom some night when Russia would least expect it. Up until then, he just had to try and cooperate with whatever was asked of him, no matter what that might be.

There were sounds in the hallway now, of feet approaching. A shadow was cast along the bottom of the door frame as an unknown figure stopped before the door.

With an ominous creak, the door slipped open. Cool light from the hall bathed the floor in white, displaying a pair of socks discarded on the floor near the dresser, and that the floor had no carpet and was simply wooden boards. A break in the light as the figure entered the room revealed a figure almost as tall as himself; perhaps only a few inches shorter.

The man's face seemed vaguely familiar to him, glasses and tan hair attached to an oval-ish face that looked around the door at him with an almost trepidation. As the blond saw that the other man in the bed had his eyes open, hazy but open, he let a small smile inch onto his dreadfully serious lips.

"It's good to see you finally awake Lietuva" he said in an accent Lithuania couldn't immediately place. "I wasn't sure how much longer we could go without calling out a doctor, and it's been snowing like mad for days. It would have been near impossible to get help to you." The man shut the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness, and crossed the short distance from the door to the bed, and sat upon the edge of it. "How do you feel?"

Lithuania cleared his dry throat slightly, swallowing though there was nothing there to swallow. "I'm...fine…" he croaked, his voice sounding incredibly dry and cracked, like the desert. "Still tired."

The man smiled slightly and gave a small nod. "I figured as much. I've already asked Mr. Russia to give you tomorrow off to make sure you're fully rested to work, but he hasn't said yes yet" he explained, bending slightly to untie his shoes. "Can you remember my name?"

"Uh…" Lithuania thought furiously, searching for this man's name in his mind and finding nothing. "I can't remember, I'm sorry."

"It's Eduard, but you may call me Estonia as well" he turned to Lithuania. "Would you like to give me your name?"

Lithuania hesitated slightly, before worrying the skin of his lower lip and shaking his head.

Estonia nodded. "I see, that's alright, you don't have to." He bent over once again, pulling off one shoe, then the other shoe.

Leaning slightly to look at what Estonia was doing, Lithuania caught sight of the other man setting his shoes near the bed and moving to peel his socks off. Peel being the operative word, as they were covered in a dark, wet substance; slowly shrinking up towards the toes to reveal one pale foot, covered in aching blisters and still-bleeding sores.

Holding in his gasp, Lithuania frowned deeply. "Your feet…" he began, but found he had no idea how to phrase his question.

Estonia frowned back, looking down at his foot. "These shoes are too small…I don't normally have to wear them, but I'm being punished this week. I just came in to change my socks."

Lithuania stared down at Estonia's foot, aghast. "You mean Russia makes you wear those shoes to punish you?" he asked, his mouth nearly gaping.

"I don't wear them often, don't worry. Everyone gets punished at some point; compared to some other things I've seen, this is a stroll in the park" Estonia said, smiling in a forcibly lighthearted manner, looking down to his injured foot. "Well, stroll may not be the appropriate word…"

"But he can't do that!" Lithuania protested, feeling anger bubbling up in his belly. "He can't torture other nation's like-"

"He can do whatever he wants with us" Estonia said calmly. "We are his property."

The brunette shook his head vehemently. "NO he does not! That man does not own me, he will not punish me! I am Lithuania!"

Estonia smiled ruefully. "I don't want to put to cruel a point on it, but you _were _Lithuania. When Russia took you into this house, he claimed you; Lithuania belongs to Russia now."

Mouth opening and closing in shock, Lithuania shook his head again. "But…"

Sighing and frowning, Estonia scooted closer to the brunette and hesitantly took his hand. "Look, I know it seems...bleak right now, but it gets better. Really, it does."

Lithuania blinked down at the blanket. How could anything that just came out of Estonia's mouth be construed as 'it gets better' material? How could the scenario in which he is trapped in Russia's house with no allies and no way to get out, facing what is most certainly his imminent death, 'get better'?

There was no way, just no way. He had to leave, somehow, he had to get out and get home, or to-

(_maybe Feliks isn't the best idea right now_)

Anywhere but here!

"Lietuva" Estonia began again, beginning to trail his thumb across the back of the brunettes hand in what he had hoped would be thought of as a comforting gesture.

It was not taken as such.

"I know this is...difficult to process right now, but believe me, you'll be fine. You'll be alright, but there are some things you need to know."

Lithuania finally looked up and frowned into Estonia's bespectacled eyes. "What kind of things?"

Estonia took a deep breath. "Alright," he held up one finger with a little smile that he hoped would put the other man at ease.

It did not.

"Number one, do whatever is asked of you. Just because Russia smiles often doesn't mean he's joking when he gives orders, so always just take whatever he is saying seriously. Yes?" Estonia asked, giving his head a little nod for Lithuania to copy, which he did. "Number two, you will be punished, most likely the first day you go to work."

Lithuania opened his mouth to protest, but Estonia held up his other hand to halt the words. "It's true and arguing won't help. You'll be punished, you might not even do anything wrong to deserve it, but Russia does it to every new person who comes. So don't get angry when it happens, and don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid" Lithuania sniffed with a little pout.

"That's good" Estonia smiled. "That's very good. Number three, never fight Russia, just do what he says and nothing more."

"I've fought him before" Lithuania defended weakly.

"You did not belong to him before. Then you had an army, here you have nothing to protect yourself with, so just don't try. You will not win, is that clear?" Estonia asked urgently.

Giving a little roll of his eyes, Lithuania nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, number four; there is a schedule on how things are done, which I can give you. I wrote it up a while back, and you must not deviate from it by any means because everything must be on time. Time is a very important thing in this house, that you must learn very early on."

"Time is important, got it."

Estonia sat back with a heavy breath. He gave Lithuania a little smile, "I don't think you'll have anything to worry about. When you get punished it will most likely be something small, like cleaning the floor again after you just cleaned it or something."

"This is terrible" Lithuania groaned.

"It is not so bad once you get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it! I just...I..." Lithuania bit his lip, feeling the dry and cracking skin. "I just want to go home."

Estonia frowned, and gave a little sigh. "This is your home now, Lietuva. I need to get back to work, alright?"

"Yes, alright" the brunette said quietly.

"I'll be back later, with some food if you're up to it" Estonia straightened up, fixing his clothes for any misplacement. "And I'll speak to Russia about when you'll get to work, so you'll be better prepared."

"Thank you."

"Goodbye, Lietuva."

The door shut, and the air was sucked back out of the room, leaving it dry and dusty like the pages of an old book. Lithuania lay back down on his rumpled and wrinkled sheets, looking up at the ceiling, which was now once again plunged into darkness. A room...this was no room, this was a glorified closet. There was no way he could stay here, no way he could become that person that could accept their punishment without question and just live on to the next one.

He had to leave.


End file.
